Washed Ashore
by Teddster
Summary: When a man wakes up on foreign shores, he must go on an an adventure to reclaim his memory and find a way back to his home. But on the way, he may discover that this world is different then anything he could have imagined, that trust is not something to be handed out easily, and that not all accidents are accidental...
1. Chapter One - Awakening

**Chapter One**

The wind blows gently and a single leaf sways, dancing in it. Finally it falls, ending it's journey in the grass. A single, tiny chicken stepped out, examining this new, fascinating item in its life, before letting out a quick, joyful cluck and trotting off to his own devices.

I groan as my eyes flutter open, and the only thing I see is what I suspect to be sand. With a frown I push myself up, examining my surroundings. I appear to be on a beach, judging from the sand and the large body of water in front of me. Behind me lies a forest, thick and dark. I have no idea how I actually got here, however. That could be a problem.

I quickly examine myself. Covering my hands are a pair of gloves that may have once been white but are now caked with dirt and what appears to be dried blood. The jacket I have on is navy blue, though torn, tattered and almost completely soaked. My trousers are a similar color to the jacket but in better condition, and my boots were oddly untouched. Quickly I remove the jacket and gloves, dropping the destroyed clothing onto the ground. I wash off any remaining dirt from my hands in the water and stand again.

"Let's see," I mumble, almost a whisper, to myself. I can't seem to remember a thing – how I got here, why I am here... Heck, I couldn't even recall my own name!

With a quick glance to the sky, I notice the sun appears to be slowly descending. Spotting no one on or around the beach, I decide to head into the forest in search for any signs of life.

* * *

It takes me a few hours to find the chicken.

I am crouched behind a tree, eying the small chicken as it trots around and pecks the ground occasionally. My legs are sore and my stomach is empty, and so I decide that this chicken would provide good food. Assuming I can catch it and cook it, of course.

I wait for another minute or two, simply watching the small animal. Finally, when it turns away I spring out from behind the tree, deciding that quickly rushing it and hoping for best was the greatest plan I can come up with. The chicken glances at me and, without any sort of hesitation, turns and flees. My legs overpower his, however, and I am quickly overcoming it before it darts between a pair of trees and into a small hole into the ground. With a growl of frustration I try to force myself into the hole, but I am to large and all I get is more dirt on me. Muttering curses about chickens I stand and do my best to brush the dirt off.

Glancing up, I see that the sun has began its descent behind the trees and the bright rays from it are dimming. I quickly realize that it might not be a good idea to spend the night in the open while in a foreign land, and so I begin to hurry through the trees at a faster pace.

My speed is rewarded when I see the light cutting through the trees.

I hurry towards the light and almost run into a stone wall. It is about three meters high and at set intervals torches blaze brightly, illuminating the area. A door sits around the middle of the wall, closed. Standing on the wall is a man, gazing at me curiously. He wears a brown robe and is bald, with a large nose covering the majority of his face. He raises a sword as I step towards the wall, crudely made with a stone blade taped to some sticks.

"Hey, buddy," he calls. "What are you doing wandering around at night? Don't you know it's dangerous?"

"I couldn't really find anywhere to stay," I reply, frowning.

"Well, you don't seem dangerous," he says. "Then again, that's not for me to decide. You could stay here, if you want, but you'll have to get the Priest's approval. He's the head of the village."

"Sure," I say, figuring I could use the help. He gestures at me to wait for a moment. He turns, calling to someone I cannot see, and turns back. A moment later the door swings open, and a man looking like an exact copy of the one on the wall gestures for me to come inside. I follow him, and he wordlessly leads me to a large building made out of a combination of stone and wood. Inside sits a man in a purple robe, so immersed in a thick book he does not notice us enter. I assume he is the Priest.

Why do they all look the same? I wonder briefly.

The man gestures for me to stay where I am and steps towards the Priest. They begin to speak in hushed tones, the Priest blatantly glancing at me every few moments. Finally the guard stands and silently leaves the room, leaving me alone with the priest. Finally, he clears his throat, and, with an incredibly forced looking smile, he begins to speak.

"Hello there," he says slowly. "I am Priest Stephen, and the head of this village. Who are you?"

With my assumption confirmed, I simply shrug and say, "I can't seem to remember that. Or anything at all, honestly."

His smile lessens a bit, but he keeps a cheerful tone to his voice. "Oh, we can help with that. You'll just have to go through the Ender Test."

* * *

Hello there! First off, I'd like to thank you for taking time to read this. Next up, I'm not sure how frequently this will be updated. Finally, I'm honestly just trying to BS my way to over 1,00 words. I don't think it worked.


	2. Chapter Two - The Ender Test

**Chapter Two**

As I am led down the dark corridor made of a hard purple substance and barely lit, I begin to regret agreeing to this.

Smaller torches letting off a dim, red light that didn't help sight much lined the walls. Along with the Priest, two men in brown robes and stone swords follow me, watching as if I am a prisoner ready to attempt escape. I do not, however, and soon we pause at a large iron door. A lever sits in the wall next to it, pointing upwards. One of the guards hurriedly

"In," the Priest orders briefly. I hesitate before one of the guards lightly pokes my back with his blade and I step towards the door. I linger for a moment before the guard forcefully pushes me inside the room. Any small amount of light that poked in vanishes as the door is shut, and I am stuck in the small room. I cannot see a single thing out of the darkness.

Then a pair of eyes open and stare at me.

It takes all my willpower not to outright scream, but that does not stop me from stumbling back and quickly into the wall. It does not take a genius to quickly realize that this is no human sharing space with me – the eyes are a mixture of every shade of purple I can think of and more. There is no discernible pupil or anything else, really – it is just two large pools of violet, amethyst... I feel like I can waste weeks just trying to describe every single color in these eyes.

I briefly hear muffled voices from the other side of the wall, but I ignore it. My vision begins to waver, and the eyes seem to be getting larger... Suddenly I feel dizzy and nauseous but all that matters is those eyes...

The last thing I can remember are the eyes completely taking over my vision.

* * *

I am nowhere – that is the first thought that enters my head as I take in my surroundings. I am on a large rock floating in the middle of nowhere. Aside from the large purple spires there is nothing here. The rock is a twisted sort of white with multiple craters dotting it. I turn around to an odd sight.

A tall, slender creature with pure black skin and those purple eyes extends a thin arm and points at a small knife. The thing stares me straight in the eyes but does not move an inch. Hesitantly I step towards him, and with each step I take my anxiety rises, but it does not move at all. Finally I step over the knife, and, without taking my eyes off of the creature, I bend down and grab it. Straightening up, the creature quickly withdraws its arm, letting it hang lazily at its side. I take the knife, passing it from one hand to the other quietly as we stare each other down. Finally, I slowly extend the knife towards the creature, and it quickly grabs it out of my hand. Before I can second guess my actions it steps towards me and plunges the blade into my chest. It feels odd, however... I feel no pain but simply stare up at the creature. Then I am surprised again as it speaks.

"_Good choice, human._"

* * *

_The rain slams against me, stinging my bare neck and soaking my uniform. I have no idea where I am other than on a wooden walkway near the water. A large boat bobs quietly in the water. I do my best to shield the torch I hold from the downpour, but to no avail. The fire quickly dims and finally dies out, and I frown as I hear footsteps behind me. I turn, seeing a man in a similar uniform to me with his own cold torch stop near me._

_"I wish they'd give us a more efficient light source," he says to me in a friendly tone. "Seems we're spending the rest of the night in the dark."_

_"Guard duty is the worst job either way," I say, yet my mind questions why I said that in this situation._

_"Well, the boat leaves the day after tomorrow," he says with a shrug. "Best to make sure nothing happens to it." I nod, and he begins to walk past me. "Better get back to patrol, else command will chew us out. See ya, Dylan."_

_Before I realize it, I am speaking to him. "Later, Rick."_

_As I start to step away, I hear shouting... I try to ignore it, but it gets louder, and suddenly I'm away from the docks and in a dark room..._

* * *

My eyes jerk open and I see Priest Stephen crouching over me, eyes closed and book wide open. He seems to be whispering and I open my mouth, about to speak, when he stops and stands quickly. He gestures for me to come with him, and as I begin to sit up I pause, searching around for the pair of eyes. When I do not spot them and the Priest gestures for me to come, I stand and hurry after him. Both of the guards are gone and the walk back through the dark tunnel is completely silent. Soon, we arrive and come back out into the church. Stephen does not stop, however, and hurries out of the church, and I am surprised to see that the sun has come up already. He leads me to a small home near the edge of town made out of oak wood. He throws the door open without even knocking and steps inside and I follow, and he gestures for me to sit in a small chair next to a table. I sit down slowly, and the Priest nods and takes the one across from me, dropping his book onto the table.

"Tell me everything you saw," Stephen demands without another moment of hesitation. I do, quickly going over every single thing I saw – the strange floating rock I was on, the weird creature and the knife, and finally about the flashback I had. He stays silent throughout the entire short story, although occasionally nodding.

"That's all you can remember?" he asks finally, and I nod. "Well, there's a single way to quickly regain your entire memory, but it'll be dangerous. Oh well." He sighs dramatically, finding a sudden interest in the table. I don't trust the man, but the whole Ender Test actually helped a bit, so it's my best shot.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Well, the Tree of Void would be able to help you recall all of your memories." Before I can ask a question, he adds, "It's the center of the entire world. It holds other worldly properties and has helped many people in mystical ways before – memory recovery is one of them."  
"Well..." I pause, frowning at the prospect. "Is there any way I can learn more about this?"  
"Of course," Stephen says, his smile dimming slightly. "I'll see if the town librarian can find a book on the Tree. I assume you'll want to stay here?" I nod and he briefly mumbles something to himself before saying, "Come," and standing. After grabbing his book he leads me out the door and through the village – it does not take long before we arrive at a small building made of cobblestone. He opens the door and directs me inside the tiny space. The only thing I can see inside is a small bed in the corner, neatly made with a red blanket.

"You can stay here for a few days," Stephen says. "I'll go talk to our librarian now. Just... Do something that doesn't involve destroying the village, alright?"

Stephen leaves after that, and I pause for a moment. Finally I shrug and step out after Stephen, glancing around. Villagers are bustling around, some speaking to friends while others are busy with their own jobs. Deciding I have nothing else to go, I head into the village.

* * *

So many line breaks. Oh well, I passed 1,000 words with this one. Thanks for the reviews!


	3. Chapter Three - The Swordsman

**Chapter Three**

The last night Stephen had given me the book from the town library, and I had spent some time reading about the Tree of Void. The priest was somewhat correct, I had learned – there had been cases of the Tree assissting people, but also of it driving those that were "impure" to insanity. The rest of the day I had spent searching for alternatives, but in the end I had found nothing but the Tree.

Now I was currently in the town's market, idly chatting with a merchant. He was slow on business, and nice enough – at least nicer than Stephen. We chat awhile before business begins to grow and I say a farewell, and I wander through the town before I spot Stephen. I head over to him.

"Ah," he says, sounding surprised I have not left town yet. "Have you come to a decision?"

I nod and reply, "Yes, I guess I'll go." He smiles slightly and nods. He starts to turn away but pauses, and when he turns back his smile is broader and there is a devious twinkle in his eye.

"Would you happen to want a traveling partner?"

* * *

Stephen takes me back into the market, to a stall that I didn't see before. Two people negotiate quietly, one a normal villager with his large nose and green robe, the other much different from everyone I have seen here. His hair is messy and a vibrant red, and a sword hung lazily at his side within easy reach. The two of us wait for a moment while the swordsman continues to speak to the trader, before he pulls out three bright green emeralds and hands them all to the trader. The trader examines them for a moment, then nods, handing him a shiny white pick, which he quickly tucks into his bag. When he turns away Stephen steps forward and begins speaking to him in hushed tones, causing the man to frown. Finally, he nods hesitantly before Stephen walks off.

The swordsman takes a few steps towards me. We stare at each other for a moment before he asks, "I heard you're heading towards the Tree of Void."

I nod, and he continues. "That's really stupid, you know." It was a statement, not a question, and I frown slightly but nod.

"And you want... me to kill myself trying to help you?" He raises an eyebrow.

"You're not that optimistic," I state, and he shrugs in response.

"Just being realistic," he tells me. "Listen – I'm Darren, and I'd rather not die on a fool's quest. But, I may be willing to make you a deal," he adds in at the end with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Got any gold?"

"Nope." He sighs in annoyance, mumbling "Of course not," before coming to another decision.

"Can you use a sword effectively?" He gestures to the sword at his side for extra emphasis, and again I respond in the negative. He slaps his palm against his forehead, exasperated, and states, "You're not making a very good case for yourself, y'know."

"I could always learn," I suggest, and he shakes his head.

"I'm not into charity," he says, and without another word he turns and slips into the crowd, leaving me standing there like an idiot with no clue where to go and what to do. I sigh and then jump slightly when I hear a sigh behind me, turning to see Stephen coming towards me.

"Oh, well," he says sadly, and I have to wonder how sincere it is. "I suppose you may stay here one more night, then you must be off!"

Soon after that Stephen leaves as well, and I wander around for a bit until my legs begin to ache and the sun begins to sink, where I retire to the small home Stephen had given me, hoping that the next day will yield better results.

* * *

I awake to the sound of screaming and an explosion.

My eyes open instantly and I stand, quickly pulling on my boots. The sounds of fighting fills my ears, and I curse silently to myself as I hurry towards the door. As I throw it open the stench of of smoke and death invades my nostrils, and I place my arm over my nose to try and block it out.

Dozens of cloaked figures dash through the village with bows or swords. The large-nosed villagers had attempted to mount a defense but lack of numbers and training seemed to have taken its toll on them. The majority of bodies on the floor belong to the inhabitants of the poor village, most with a few arrows sticking out of their back or chest.

I waste no more time in dashing away from the house and trying to circle around the hostile invaders. A villager stumbles past me, bleeding from multiple wounds, and collapses. I barely have time to register that it was the merchant from the last day before an arrow flies by my head, imbedding itself into a nearby door. I duck my head down and sprint as fast as my legs can carry me, and I dash down an alleyway just in time to see another arrow fly by. I hurry into the alley, and almost slam straight into the stone wall. I turn around in panic to see a figure in a dark cloak step in after me, wielding an iron sword threateningly. I press my back into the wall, awaiting my death as he descends on me.

It never comes.

"Hey, coward," says a familiar voice dryly, and I see Darren standing before me with his bloodstained sword through the chest of the cloaked man. His leather tunic, painted dark green, has multiple splatters of blood varying in size. "C'mon, unless you want to stay for the rest of the show." He turns without waiting for me and slowly steps out of the alleyway in a crouch, and I follow as stealthily as I can. We dart through alleys and stay out of the dying action, and soon we are out of the village and creeping through the underbrush. Although Darren seems to relax, even sheathing his blade, I remain tense and paranoid at the slightest sounds; when a sound emits from nearby bushes, I nearly jump and run away, but three villagers step out. One of them is Priest Stephen.

"So you made it," Stephen says, sounding oddly relieved. A day ago he would've been relieved to see the two of us still in the village, I think.

Darren nods and gestures towards me, and the two of us follow the three villagers. After a short trek we emerge in a small clearing, surrounded by trees with a tiny pond nearby. A chicken clucks happily as he swims around in the water, and while Darren eyes it hungrily, one of the villagers hurriedly informs him that yes, we do have enough food, there is no need to kill the poor, innocent creature. After a short period of introduction – one of the villagers is named Jared, who was a blacksmith, and the other a librarian by the name of James – four of us lie down, leaving Darren to keep watch. It takes a bit, but soon I drift off into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

The first thing I notice when I am awakened is the boot on my chest. My eyes widen in surprise but Darren quickly removes his foot from my body, sighing in annoyance at me. I sit up quickly, looking around before taking a questioning glance at him.

"You sleep too heavily," he explains. "Anyways, it's your watch. Four hours." I nod and stand as he hands me a golden watch. While I hurry out he lies down on the makeshift bedding, and I go to sit down at what I assume is a good spot – a small log with my back to the pond. I settle down, hoping for a boring night of simply watching nothingness.

The man stumbles into our camp an hour and a half later.

* * *

WHAT'S THAT NO THIS ISN'T LATE YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT

FFN RECOGNIZE MY LINE BREAKS GEEZ


	4. Chapter Four - Mob

**Chapter Four**

The man comes in to my right, entering our camp unknowingly. His beard is dark in color and quite clean, along with his hair. His skin is tanned and a sword hangs at his side, much like Darren, and he is holding a golden cane out in front of himself. The most noticeable feature, however, is that a dirty, light blue blindfold is placed over his eyes.

I am frozen in place before realizing I don't have a weapon of my own. Slowly, I start to stand but he pauses mid-stride. One hand lowers to the hilt of his blade and he turns, facing vaguely in my direction.

"Is someone there?" he calls lowly. I stay silent, unsure of what I should do, and he frees his blade and balances it easily in his hand. "Last chance," he says again, head swerving around the area he had heard me from.

Against my better judgment I call out, "Erm, hello?"

Instantly the man relaxes, setting his sword back to his side and leaning against his cane once again. He smiles, this time facing my direction much more precisely, and stands up straighter. "Hello, fellow traveler!" he calls. "Do you happen to be alone, or are you in a group?"

I stay silent for a moment, not sure how to respond, when Darren appears, sword sheathed but his hand resting on the hilt. "Fellow traveler," he repeats the mans greeting, though a bit more warily. "It appears you are alone."

"I am," the man confirms. "And I see that you are not traveling alone."

"Five in the group," Darren replies, as if it is the best idea to give all the groups information to a stranger in a forest. _Great idea, Darren,_ I think sarcastically, _why not hand him every little thing we have at the same time?_

Etiquette was fairly odd here.

"May I travel with your group?" the man asks, and Darren raises an eyebrow.

"What can you offer to us? We're not a traveling charity service, after all."

"I can offer any of the supplies I have," the man offers. "And, despite your thoughts, I can in fact fight.

Darren ponders this for a moment. Then, he turns quietly to Stephen and the two other villagers, who were hiding near the trees watching the events as they happened. Stephen nods hesitantly, James shrugs and Jared looks indecisive, copying James' action. Darren then turns to me, and before I do anything he mouths, "If you shrug I'll kill you." Not sure how serious he is in this statement, I pause for a moment to think before nodding. Darren turns back to the man, nodding approvingly to himself.

"What's your name and how'd you lose your eyes?" he asks.

Tact is apparently not one of his skills.

"I am Harten Vickson, wanderer," he replies. "And I lost my eyes to an Enderman that my foolish former partner had provoked. Does that answer your questions?"

Darren nods, and then, realizing his mistake, says, "Yeah, fine with me. I am Darren Edgarson, wandering swordsman. Our group consists Stephen, priest, Jared, blacksmith, James, librarian, and Dylan-" He pauses for a slight moment, considering, before finishing, "-wandering swordsman." Harten nods, either not catching Darren's hesitation or not showing that he did.

Well, the villagers had already began settling back into bed, and the group seemed to fully trust this man already, so I suppose I should, too. I had my doubts, sure, but apparently everyone in this land was either incredibly trustworthy or easily fooled.

Darren and Harten walk off to the sleeping area, talking in low tones, and I settle back onto the log to finish the watch. I wait an hour, watching the forest diligently for any signs of movement – there are none – and then another hour. Multiple times I feel my eyelids start to slide down before jerking myself awake, and I consider turning to sit over the water but write that off as a silly idea. No need to get myself wet when I only had – I check the watch – roughly forty-five minutes left. I sigh, staring back out towards the forest. I jump, yelping slightly when a hand places itself on my shoulder.

I turn to see Harten, who hushes me, indicating towards the rest of the group. He grips his cane in both of his hands, and he nods towards me and I almost nod back, before whispering, "Hello." He nods again before slowly moving past me, and extending his arms. Finally his hands connect with the hard wood of the log and he settles onto it with me, and we stare in silence for the next forty or so minutes.

Soon I glance down at the clock and see my watch has ended two minutes ago, but it does not matter as the sun soon begins to rise above the trees and I hear a yawn from the sleeping area. Darren treads out of the sleeping area, sword back to his side as he stretches and glances around. Then he stops, dead in his tracks as he stares out into the forest. I tense, slowly rising from the log as Darren quickly draws his sword and calls out "Enderman!" That wakes up the entire camp, and Harten is up in an instant with his cane in one hand and sword in the other.

I follow after quickly, sticking behind the two men with weapons. Standing near a tree, a tall, slender form stands – the same form I had seen in the Ender Test. But I quickly realize that it is not the same one, as long, sharp claws extend from its hands and in place of two beautiful ones, only a single violet eye sits atop its face. It lets out a low growl, sort of like a buzzing sound, before disappearing completely – not running away, or flying, just outright disappearing from existence – leaving a small few wisps of purple smoke in its place.

Darren and Harten stay tense for a few moments, and when I glance behind me I can see all of the villagers shaking in fear. Finally Darren exhales and relaxes, sheathing his sword and announcing, "It's gone, Harten. Relax." Harten nods and sheathes his own sword, but I remain still.

"...are you sure you want to just give up like that?" I ask, and Darren chuckles quietly to himself before answering.

"If an Enderman doesn't come back after that long," he says, even though it was only a few moments, "then it's gone. Anyways, we need to plan where to go next."

"The T-" I begin to say instantly, but Darren shoots forward and plants his hand over my mouth, glaring at me. He raises a finger to his lips, shushing me for the moment, and when I nod he removes his hand. I'm not sure how to react, so I decide to just wait and see what happens.

"I was heading to Icaria myself," Harten mumbles, ignoring what I had been trying to say. The villagers hurry over to where we are to discuss with us.  
"Icaria would be a great place to stay!" Stephen says quickly, and James nods hurriedly, adding, "Think of it! The _grandest library in the entire land_!"

"And it's the safest place we could possibly go," Jared adds quietly. "Icaria has never been breached in recorded history." Harten nods in agreement.

"Then it's settled?" Darren asks. Everyone nods or mutters a positive while I stay silent, conflicted at what to do. I still need to get to the Tree, but obviously I cannot simply trek off alone in a foreign land with no supplies and expect to arrive at my destination alive. I'll come to the city, Icaria, then, I decide, and I nod slightly when Darren's gaze pauses over me.

"Then let's go!" he announces. "Hopefully we can find a settlement before nightfall."

* * *

It takes a few hours, but eventually we run into the first truly hostile mob.

It happens soon after a short food break consisting mostly of bread. I'm trudging along at the back of the group when I hear the sound of footsteps behind me. When I turn to look I spot nothing, so I shrug it off, until I hear it again with an increased urgency. I turn again to see the creature charging towards the group.

It's skin is a terrible collection of green, as if a child had thrown random vials of paint at something and this was the outcome. Four short, stubby legs allowed the beast to move, and its face held only two black, soulless eyes and a frown permanently etched onto it. As soon as I spot it it emits a low hissing sound.

"What is that?" I call rather loudly, and the group, minus Harten, all turn to see it. The villagers gasp and start to back away, and Darren steps in front of me as he draws his sword. Deciding this is not the best time to question him, I simply shrink back behind him and decide to watch this play out.

"What is it?" Harten asks as James grabs his arm and drags him close to the group.

"Creeper," the librarian whispers back, and Harten frowns. I raise an eyebrow and start to question them when Darren calls, "Stand back now, beast." I turn back to see the Creeper running at an even faster pace, eyes set on Darren and the sword he holds. Darren grimaces but does not step down, and when the Creeper is about to tackle him, emitting a much louder hissing sound, Darren drives his sword forward. The Creeper realizes its mistake too late and attempts to move out of the way, and the blade makes a long, deep slash into its side. The Creeper stumbles, almost falling, when Darren runs it through with his blade. The Creeper becomes silent, and a single trail of smoke begins to rise up from the head, and then from the body and the legs and eventually the whole creature is covered in, or completely turns into smoke floating into the air.

"Mobs are awakening," Darren asks, turning back to the group as he sheathes his sword. "No time for questions," he gives a pointed look towards me, "we should hurry."

The group begins to travel at a quicker pace, and probably would've gone faster if we knew that this would not be the first mob we'd see today.

* * *

The water was calm and serene, the grass still in the lack of wind. The area was populated by lush greens and grass sprouting up from the ground, the result of being near the edge of a jungle and oak forest. A pig lay sprawled on his back, snoozing contentedly, and the man sat with his back to a tree, content with watching the peaceful scene.

Anders didn't expect any mobs to attack – armed with his finely crafted diamond blade at around noon, when most mobs were still waking up – but still jumped when he heard a figure step over some fallen leaves. Glancing in the direction and laying his hand on the hilt of his blade, he jumps up and frees his sword from the sheath the moment the slim form of an Enderman appears.

Making absolute care not to look it directly in the eyes, he calls, "Turn back now, beast of the End."

A low growl and the Enderman was behind him. Startled, Anders began to turn when suddenly he was lifted into the air, the Enderman slapping the sword out of his hand and holding him by a single leg. Anders throws a single punch at the mob, but the Enderman simply takes the blow and tosses the man into a tree. The pig jumps in surprise and runs into the forest, and Anders grunts as he stands.

"I have not come here to kill you, _Overbeast_," the Enderman sneers, and the man flinches at the beast's odd form of communication, sort of a mix between speech aloud and in his mind. "I am simply here to offer a message to you."

"Speak before I slay you and take your pearl!" Anders replies, lunging for his sword. The Enderman quickly leans down, grabs it and teleports to the other side of the pond, dropping the blade near the edge.

"Your home will be destroyed within the next month," the Enderman states quite bluntly.

"...Aren't things like these generally stuck in stupidly complicated riddles?" Anders questions.

"My kind has no need for such trivial length issues."

"...Of course."  
With that, the Enderman disappeared in a puff of smoke, off to search for a group it had been separated from a short time earlier.

Because man it really loved the priest's carrots.

* * *

"There," Darren calls as the points to the large mountain that now towers over us as the moon begins to rise. A wooden building is barely in sight, and the only reason I can see it is the faint illumination I can make out from here. All of our legs were sore at this point but Darren continued to urge us on due to nightfall. Jared had suggested camping out as we had last night but the majority of the group did not like testing luck again, especially with another group member now.

Then the first moan sounded throughout the forest, followed by the clatter of bows. Then the low growl/buzz sound of an Enderman, and the amplified sound of insect legs slamming hardly against the ground in a furious manner.

Darren wastes no time spurring the group into action, speaking quietly as to not alert the mobs but loud enough for everyone to hear. "The mountain's close, we just gotta get up it and hopefully those in it will allow us to take shelter. C'mon, hurry up, James, don't lag behind. Stephen, lead Harten to make sure we don't lose him."

The sounds increase in intensity and frequency, until it seems they are right on our backs and I am frequently checking behind me. Soon we leave the cover of the trees and start climbing the bare mountain when the arrows start to fly at us. I turn to see walking skeletons, some with cracked or missing bones and others with fresh dirt or blood stained on them. My eyes widen but before I can react someone grabs the back of my shirt and starts pulling me back up the mountain, and I quickly stumble after him.

Soon the entire group is fleeing from the undead beasts, and then the spiders screech and start scuttling up the mountain after us. I hold in my screams and focus purely on running when suddenly my right leg jerks to a stop and I fall. Quickly my hands are out in front of me and I land in the grass, my teeth slamming together in surprise at this but thankfully not smashing onto my tongue. Then something tugs on my right ankle and then the beast starts to climb onto me.

It reeks of death and rotten flesh and the shirt stuck to his chest by dried blood has multiple cuts in it. An ankle of his is twisted at a terrible angle and one of his eyes is completely missing. The skin is a sickly green and covered in many splatters of blood, and as his jaw lazily opens some form of saliva drips onto my face and I must resist the urge to vomit. It moans in triumph before beginning to sink down, and in a desperate move my hand flies out and slams into his nose. The creature, caught off guard, begins to fall back and starts wildly waving his arms to regain balance. I grab blindly behind me before I grip a cold stone stuck in the ground. I pull, and as the creature begins to lunge for me again I free my leg and slam it into his chest, causing it to fall back and into two others like itself. Without a second though I flip over and stand, sprinting after the group that I was beginning to lag behind.

We are almost near the top of this now, and then an arrow flies into Jared's leg. Darren stops, urging the others to go on, but Harten stops as well and draws his own sword. Stephen and James continue to sprint up while the two begin battle and I stop my run a few feet behind them, unsure of what to do.

"Go on, then!" Darren calls, before decapitating another undead creature. Then he stabs towards another one, and the blade sinks into its chest. When he moves to pull it free, however, after a sharp tug only half of the blade comes free. Darren swears heavily and drops it, instead bending down to grab Jared and half dragging half carrying him up the rest of the mountain, Harten doing his best to provide support. Finally Harten turns and drops his sword into his sheath, hurrying after the group and I provide a trail with my voice to help him.

Then another creature lunges at us both, and while I dodge in time Harten is caught off guard and thrown to the ground. As the beast looms over him, ready to sink his teeth into the flesh of his neck, an arrow comes from above and into the beast's head. In a moment it crumples, smoke rising from the body, and I grab Harten and help him to the top, where our saviors wait.

Two people, a man and a woman, hold bows and are firing at the small horde following us. None of the villagers are present, most likely inside, and Darren leans against the wall breathing heavily. Finally the man lowers his bow, dropping it into the bag at his side, and pulls out an unlit torch, planting it into the ground. Then he pulls out a flint and steel, quickly lighting the torch and dumping the fire starting devices into his bag, where he pulls the torch back up from the ground and brandishes it at the nearest undead. The creature boldly steps forward when the man thrusts the flames into its throat, and it lets out a shrill cry of pain before stumbling back down the mountain. The man plants the torch back into the ground and gestures for us to both come inside, and I do so.

The building is light, with a small furnace stuck in the corner and there are multiple large chests at the opposite wall. It is brightly lit and a wooden staircase leads upwards. The door is slammed shut and everyone slumps inside, and I take that moment to get a good look at our rescuers.

The man is tall, his hair a messy dark brown now slicked with sweat. His eyes are dark brown as well, and they glance over us the same way I am doing to him. He offers a small smile when he catches my gaze and I do my best to return it.

The woman is slightly shorter than her male counterpart, with a lighter shade of brown for her own hair color. Her eyes, however, were a bright blue, and as she heads over to the chests she does not even offer us a second glance. The man follows shortly after, and the two dump their arrows and bows into the same chest.

"So..." the man begins, casting a questioning glance towards me, then Harten, then stopping at Darren.

"Wanderers," Darren replies after a moment, standing up straight again. "Overestimated how close the next town was."

"That tends to happens a lot around here," the other man replies with a small frown. "I'm Dale. This is my wife, Charlotte. We'll allow you to stay here for the night, then?"

"That would be much appreciated," Darren says with a grateful nod and smile.

"Sadly, we don't have any extra beds..." Dale rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "We do have a bit of extra wool, though."  
"We have our own bedding," Darren says, "but anything extra would be appreciated."

Dale nods and the two get to setting up the bed. Jared was upstairs and the pair were going to assist him in his wound, and within the next thirty minutes the entire group was settled down and dozing off, the torches all put out, with no threat of imminent death and no need for any watch.

Sadly, I was still stuck awake when everyone else was snoring quietly.

I wouldn't be getting much sleep that night.

* * *

What's that? Yes, I assure you, one day I will get to a decent updating schedule probably. I blame my editor.

_endermeeeeen, yay_


	5. Chapter Five - Crestfallen

**Chapter Five**

My eyes jerk open and I lay on my back, watching the ceiling as the shadows flicker across it. Finally I stand, leaving my short and fitful slumber. I sigh, glancing around the room; the group is opposite from the door, and they all sleep peacefully. I admit to lack of sleep for the moment, sighing again as I lean against the wall and stare at the lit torch on the wall. I am not sure how much time passes – I gave the watch back to Darren during travel – but eventually I hear someone padding down the steps. Dale comes down, lazily stretching and covering a yawn, before glancing at me then the torch. He opens his mouth for a moment then closes it again, confused, and the realization hits me.

Why are the torches lit when they were extinguished just hours ago?

I open my mouth to form a question to him when the door is ripped off of its hinges.

Dale's eyes widen and he dashes towards the chests. The group instantly begins to wake, some rising faster than others. Darren is the first to the chests, followed by Dale and then Harten, who holds his cane in his hands. I can hear Charlotte hurrying down the stairs and then three undead creatures charge into the home.

The three skeletons are tall, taller than any of the undead I had seen last night (this night?) Every one of the bones is black, as if charred, and they hold makeshift stone swords, though the stone is dark and unfamiliar to me. One of them angles towards the group at the chests, and another darts towards the stunned Charlotte who is now stumbling back up the stairs.

The final one aims its sword straight towards me and charges.

I jump out of the way, and the skeleton tries to stop, stumbling past me. On instinct I lash out, slamming my foot into its leg bone, but I realize I do not have my boots on and the strike hurts myself as well. Thankfully the skeleton, not expecting of the attack, staggers and falls with a thud.

Then Harten is here, shoving an iron sword into my hand and then pulling out his own. He holds his sword in one hand and the cane in the other, watching the direction of the skeleton warily as it stands. I grip the unfamiliar sword and step next to Harten, holding it out in front of me. I am unaware of how the others are doing and I hope for their safety, but I must focus on this battle right now.

"Dylan," Harten begins, strangely calm, "do you happen to be familiar with these mobs?"

"Uh, n-no."

Harten shakes his head slightly before saying, "These are Wither Skeletons, unholy beasts from the Nether Realms. Almost any wound from their swords means certain death if not treated instantly."

Sounds fun.

The skeleton is standing now, holding its sword out and eying us warily. It raises its weapon as I settle into position next to Harten, and the undead finally lunges forward, swinging its sword. Harten steps forward, raising his own blade, and the two clang against each other. Harten snarls, swinging his cane forward, slamming it into the skeleton's hip bone, and there is an audible crack. I dash forward, swinging my sword clumsily at the creature, but it jumps back. Quickly it charges forward towards me, and uncertainly I raise my sword to block its attack. At the last second, however, I am distracted, when I hear a cry of pain to my right. I glance over, but then the skeleton slams into me, knocking my sword away and slamming its hand into my face. I grunt and fall to the floor, losing grip on my sword, and the skeleton swings its sword down at me before Harten jumps in, blocking the strike. I take this moment to search the ground, fumbling for my sword and finally grabbing it, jumping up and lunging at the undead.

The skeleton pushes Harten away and steps back, and, unprepared, my blade flashes past its jaw. I stumble, and the skeleton raises its sword, but then Darren appears behind it and beheads the creature. The skull tumbles to the floor and the beast begins to disperse into smoke, and I turn to thank Darren, but he runs off to my right, completely ignoring me. When I turn over there, however, my eyes widen and I nearly drop my sword onto the floor.

Dale lies on the floor, on his side, a look of shock on his face. A dark stone sword pierces his chest, resting awkwardly in his body, his own sword near his feet. Charlotte, now holding a sword, drives her blade into the weaponless skeleton's jaw, and when Darren arrives the thing is dispersing into smoke while Charlotte crouches down to her husband hurriedly. Darren bends down, and Charlotte attempts to slap him away, but he grabs the sword and jerks it free of Dale's body, throwing it away and startling the two villagers cowering in the corner.

Then, I get a glimpse of the Wither effect.

The area surrounding the sword burns away – the fabric of his tunic wither, his skin slowly turns to dust. The blood pouring from the wound is much darker than normal, almost pitch black.

I turn away, horrified, and my legs buckle and shake. I bend down, placing my hands on my knees and attempting not to vomit. After a moment, I stand again, ignoring Charlotte's pained sobs and making sure to avoid looking at the wound again. I catch Harten glancing around, confused slightly at the current mood, and I lean against the wall. Finally, I turn to Charlotte again while avoiding the wound, and catching Darren standing behind her solemnly. He sighs slightly and turns, hurrying up the stairs. After a moment, he comes back down, the robed figure of Jared slung over his back and sword sheathed by his side.

"We're going," Darren says firmly, and before anyone can object he adds, "It should be close enough to dawn that the majority of mobs are starting to seek shelter. Come on, grab everything you have and we'll go. And, uh," he pauses, turning to Charlotte, who is currently ignoring him. "If you would like to journey with us-"

"Why would I want to travel with _you_?" she shrieks, turning sharply and glaring at Darren. He shrugs weakly and she continues, "My husband is _dead _because of _you _and your group! I-I should kill you a-all now..." She shakes her head and drops back to the ground again, and Darren turns and comes over to our sleeping area, quickly donning my boots. Harten hesitantly comes over as well, and Darren quickly rummages through the chests and hands me a sheath for my sword. I glare at him and he shrugs innocently, and I sigh slightly before sheathing my sword and strapping it to my waist. He gestures to the entire group, and we slowly and solemnly file out of the home, leaving Charlotte mourning over her husband's swiftly decomposing corpse.

* * *

Within the next few hours, we arrive at the town known as Little Rock – or at least what remains of it.

Corpses litter the roads, some armored and some robed, and some burned beyond recognition. The stench is so terrible I have to place a hand over my nostrils, my stomach churning as I barely block out any of the rot. Most buildings, once made of finely crafted wood, are now charred heaps of rubble. Not a single speck of life appears as the group quietly trudges throughout the town, and Stephen shakes his head, mumbling to James.

"The next town is quite a ways away," Darren mutters. "We'll have to camp out for a few nights."

The group nods, and as we pass the village center, I spot a large monument. Iron bars surround the thing, and the corpses seem to be heavy here, causing myself to gag. Past the bars sits bloodstained grass, and in the center of that a large, uneven shape protrudes from the ground. The metal is smooth, though stained, and colored with a mix of black and white – not grey, just the two colors sitting next to each other.

On the top of the monument rests a ragged, black hood, blowing slightly in the breeze.

"This is what the town was named after," Stephen offers after a quiet silence. "A chunk of bedrock piercing the ground. No one knows why that happened."

"Probably fake," Darren murmurs, then adds, "A local history lesson isn't important. Who the hell did this?"

"That hood looks like the one our attackers at the previous town wore," James notes.

"The Crestfallen," Stephen mumbles, staring off into the distance.

"Excuse me?" Harten asks with a raised eyebrow. Stephen points to a nearby building, a stone wall barely standing. Sitting near the base, a wooden sign sits, with the words "THIS CITY HAS BEEN CLAIMED BY THE CRESTFALLEN AS THE SITE FOR OUR FUTURE KING" inked on. Stephen recites the writing to Harten, who looks troubled at the writing.

"We should warn Icaria of this," Harten proclaims. "I fear that a force strong enough to wipe cities off the map could pose a threat to the city."

"You're just paranoid," Darren declares. "But we're heading there anyways, so you can do that when we arrive, I suppose." He takes one final glance at the surroundings before saying, "Let's go, we don't want to waste any more time here."

* * *

Later that night, I dream.

_The sun is bright and high in the sky this time, shining down on the large group that stand on the beach. Men, all men, with differing appearances, all stand in a line, in the same navy blue uniform I awoke in. Sabers hang at our sides, and a stranger weapon sits in a small holster. Again, I cannot control my body, but simply watch from my mind._

_A man paces in front of the line, tall, with a large, black mustache adorning his face. His eyes are scrunched up, eying each and every man in the line. Finally, he nods slightly, satisfied with everyone. Finally, he speaks._

_"As you all know," he starts, voice deep and powerful, "we set off for the New Land in three days. However, reports have come in of Galictonian ships patrolling the area in our path. We hope to avoid conflict, but there is always the possibility that they may attack us." He pauses, growling out the next part so low that I can barely hear it: "The dirty swine will stop at nothing to control us, it seems. No-"_

_"_Hey_!"_

_The voice interrupts the speaker, who growls and turns. The men in line cannot help glancing over at the man dashing across the sand. His hair is a matted, dirty grey, his eyes bloodshot and wide and his clothes torn and ragged. He clutches something in his hand and blood drips from it, and he glances around wildly and then back to our interrupted speaker. "Hey!" he calls again, not faltering in his sprint._

_Our instructor – that's what I assume him to be, for that's all I can make out as a faint memory attempts to form – frowns and calls out, "Stop, now!"_

_The man does not stop, panting loudly as his pace increases. He raises his arm, blood flying as the object gleams. _

_"Stop! Final warning!"_

_The man is a few feet away from our instructor when the cleaner man's hand grips for something at his side. He pulls up the strange weapon I cannot recognize, and a pang of pain swarms around my mind as I try to recall it. The man lunges at him, and then the weapon erupts, pure fire spewing as it bursts from the object. The man twists as a circle of blood blossoms up from his chest, and he stops, falling to the ground. The object – a jagged piece of glass – falls from his grasp, and the man's eyes glaze over as he stills._

_No one, not the instructor nor line, bat an eye at the murder, myself included._

_Then the headache truly starts, pain overcoming my mind. My body does not move, and it is clear that this is not from my memory, and the pain blossoms throughout my entire being. My vision fades to black, the memory disappearing as it is forcefully ripped from me, and I want to scream but I cannot and then I am aware of a single thing sharing the void with me – a single, swirling violet eye staring at me. Then the instructor from my memory appears, perfectly normal except for the face that lacks skin and instead shows a charred, black skull, a single eye socket empty and another filled with a bright, purple eye._

_"Oh, Platonian," he coos, voice sickeningly-sweet. "We're coming for youuuuuu..."_

Then the dream disappears and I am sitting up, gasping. I sit awake all night, taking over sentry position when Darren goes to bed, but the only thing I can think about is the purple eye and the voice calling to me.

* * *

Personally I blame my editor moving to China. But, hey, all good stories take a long time to update, right? ...Right, guys...?

(I swear this will move onto a good updating schedule one day.)


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